


tracing the treelines

by thisismk



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Falling In Love, Halloween, House Party, Inspired by Music, Kissing, M/M, Partying, Secret Relationship, Sneaking Around, Sneaking Out, minsung - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:02:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27124934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisismk/pseuds/thisismk
Summary: “Who said we were friends?” Minho asked, flicking some water in his face. “Ever thought that maybe we’re just strictly coworkers, Buttercup?”“Nah, I don't think so,” Jisung said, cocky. “You like me too much.”He expected a witty response, but Minho was pretty good at surprising him. He looked up at him, gaze soft.“Maybe I do."✩ ✩ ✩Or; the one where Jisung learns the value of a good Halloween costume, the thrill of first love, and the best way to sneak out of his dorm.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 14
Kudos: 225
Collections: SKZ Jukebox Fest Speed Round





	tracing the treelines

**Author's Note:**

> Hello readers!
> 
> I am so excited to be a part of SKZ Jukebox speed round, and my song was "Keeping It In the Dark" by Daya. 
> 
> Can't wait to chat about this once the reveals happen, but until then, enjoy!

_ Ping! _

Jisung was sitting in bed when he got the message. His phone lit up from its spot on his desk, the bright light of an incoming text making his heart skip a beat. He knew who it was without even checking, but he swiped up to see the message anyways. 

_ marigold [1:17 a.m.] outside in five  _

He bit his bottom lip, a smile sneaking through a carefully crafted facade of nonchalance as he jumped up to grab a flannel shirt. It was nearing November and the chill in the air was tenfold at night, so he knew that he wouldn’t be able to handle the biting breeze in his current getup. He threw the extra layer over his old t-shirt, plastered with a photo of a band he didn’t even listen to anymore, and pulled on some jeans. 

He exited his room, pulling the door shut with the knob turned so it wouldn’t click. He tiptoed down the hallway, past his roommates asleep on the couch in their common room. 

“ _ Freeze _ !”

He thought he’d been caught, but then he realized it was just audio from the TV. The apartment was surprisingly cozy for a dorm, and it helped that he was living with his two best friends. Felix and Seungmin had fallen asleep with the TV still blaring, the latest episode of Brooklyn 99 flashing across the screen. Jisung slipped on his black birkenstocks as Jake and Charles bickered over pizza toppings, a soft snore from Felix making him chuckle under his breath.

The first time Jisung had snuck out to see  _ him _ , he had been so excited that he didn’t plan very well. He tried to pull on his tennis shoes in the pitch black, eventually slipping on the laminate floors in his fuzzy socks (damn them for being so comfortable) and tripping over his own feet in his hurry to get out. He’d hit the ground with a  _ thud _ that woke both of his roommates- they had emerged from their respective rooms, rubbing their eyes and grumbling about being woken up. When Jisung had come up with some excuse about running to the convenience store for a late-night snack, Seungmin had requested a bag of shrimp crackers and Felix wanted an energy drink for the next morning, which meant he actually had to go to the store. That had pushed back his rendezvous by at least thirty minutes, but luckily his companion had found the whole delay funny rather than annoying. 

A few months of sneaking out had helped Jisung craft the perfect escape route. He would slip out of bed silently, making his way to the common room on feather-light steps to pull on his pair of slip-on sneakers, which never made so much as a peep. The time between receiving the text and getting out the door was usually under three minutes.

He was used to the routine by now - meet up outside, exchange a sarcastic “ _ Fancy meeting you here! _ ” then forget real life for an hour or two. He was especially antsy tonight, though, because last week he’d had an exam to cram for and hadn’t been able to meet up. They FaceTimed, of course, but nothing compared to actually being together in person. By the time he reached the edge of campus, he was practically buzzing with anticipation. He saw the lone figure standing at the edge of the treeline, his silhouette casting a shadow across the grass.

Minho. 

✩ ✩ ✩

Five months earlier, Jisung had rolled out of bed and pulled on an old pair of tattered overalls, packing an extra water bottle in his bag as he headed to his first day of work. He’d gotten the job as one of the junior groundskeepers for the summer, and although he didn’t know the specifics of all the things he’d be helping with, he knew he’d be spending hours outside. He made a note to thank Jeongin for the new water bottle- a bright red tumbler with a squirrel sticker on the front - he had a feeling he would be using it a lot this summer. 

Once he sat through a quick orientation and received his ID badge that gave him access to the buildings, he headed over to west campus for his first assignment. His boss told him he’d be paired with someone who had worked there the past few summers, and he was secretly relieved he wouldn’t have to just figure it out as he went. As he approached the freshmen dorms, he saw a boy hunched over in the flowerbeds in front of the entrance, dirt smeared on jeans that fit a little  _ too _ well on him. 

“Hi,” Jisung called out, cringing at how high his voice sounded. He cleared his throat. “I’m Jisung, I’m one of the new hires.”

The boy set down his spade and wiped his brow. When they made eye contact, Jisung was thankful he’d already introduced himself because he suddenly forgot his own name. The guy was, in a word, stunning; thick, dark hair framed an unfairly angular face, high cheekbones and a perfect nose. He had a small flush from working in the sun, but he seemed to be one of those people that looked good even when they were sweating, the soft sheen almost making him glow. 

“You don’t know who I am?” His voice was melodic, but his bright, feline eyes were scrunched up with what Jisung could only describe as confusion.

“Uh, no,” Jisung shifted weight back and forth, hands swinging awkwardly at his sides. “Should I?”

The guy seemed to snap out of whatever thought he was stuck on, shaking his head and face splitting into a lazy smile. 

“No, sorry,” he said. “I’m Minho. It’s nice to meet you, welcome to groundskeeping. Get ready to hate any and all shrubbery by the end of the summer.”

“Ahead of you already, I think grass is stupid.”

“You’ll fit right in!” Minho said. “Can you grab the extra spade in the bag over there? I’m glad I don’t have to suffer through these marigolds alone.”

Jisung smiled back, walking over to help him pluck weeds. 

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that he didn’t know who Minho was - to be honest, he didn’t know that many people on campus,  _ period _ . Considering how often he was holed up in the studio with Changbin and Chan, it was a wonder he had such a strong friend group in the first place. 

“You need to get out more,” Chan always insisted.

When he wasn’t working on music for his major, most of his time was spent in the dorm apartment with Seungmin and Felix, his best friends from high school. Jeongin and Hyunjin, their neighbors across the hall, were regulars in their apartment on the lazier weekday evenings, and they would bring other friends by here and there, but for the most part Jisung was content to keep to himself and his small found family. If he had known there were guys on this campus that looked like Minho. . . well, he might have come out of his self-isolation a lot sooner. 

Their awkward introduction aside, Jisung found Minho frighteningly easy to talk to. By the time their first day had ended, he felt like he had known him for years. They had bonded over a shared love of taro bubble tea (“ _ People are still screaming about matcha, when taro is clearly the superior flavor profile! _ ”) as they tended to the marigolds. When they moved over to the dining hall to plant a row of buttercups, the conversation turned to a mutual love for the cat cafe downtown. 

“Have you played with Sassy, the black kitten with the white spot on her tail?” Minho asked. 

“Oh my god, yes,” Jisung rushed out. “She and Jax are my favorites. I swear I almost cried when I first heard them meow, it was so cute.” 

“And Butters? The really fat one with the purple collar? I swear, if it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to convince her to cuddle me. I don’t care how long it takes.”

“She’s a tough one to crack,” Jisung said sagely. “One time I offered her a treat and she looked me dead in the eyes, and turned around and walked away!”

“Well, I’m kind of amazing with cats. I’ve got three at home, so I feel like if anyone will earn cuddles from Butters, it’ll be me.”

When it was time to head home for the day, Jisung found himself pulling out his phone without a second thought. Minho called out his number quickly, and Jisung sent him a text full of emojis so that he could save his number, too. 

“I don’t know your last name,” Jisung realized, staring at the empty field in his contacts.

“Oh, sorry, it’s-”

“No, I think I’m going to give you a nickname,” Jiusng said with a wink. “You’ll be  _ Marigold Minho _ for now.”

Minho barked out a laugh, but there was a slight dusting of pink high on his cheeks. 

“Fine,” he said. “Then you’re going to be  _ Buttercup Jisung _ .”

“There’s no alliteration!” Jisung objected. “Yours worked well because it was double M’s.”

“Sorry, Buttercup,” Minho smirked. “Should have helped me plant some of the jasmine instead.”

✩ ✩ ✩

The end of May had bled into June seamlessly and by July, Jisung couldn’t believe he had ever existed without having Minho in his life. They fell into friendship almost instantly, but there was an underlying level of tension that he was sure they both felt. It came in glances that lasted just a hair too long, in touches that lingered longer than necessary to pass a garden tool. 

They spent their days planting flowers, moving mounds of stinky mulch shovelful by shovelful. They gave the flowers nicknames, creating a faux reality show where they judged their growth over the months. They spent one week doing one of the more bizarre tasks, fertilizing the lawn with spray hoses. 

“Are we  _ painting _ the grass?” Jisung asked.

The liquid coming out of the hoses was undeniably green, bright enough that they could tell which sections had been fertilized as they went along. Minho just laughed and shrugged, insisting that the administration wanted a green lawn and wouldn’t put it past them to order a tinted chemical to help the process along. 

“Maybe it just needs a little makeover, you know?” Minho offered. “Like, when I’m feeling down I’ll change up my hair or something. Maybe this is the lawn’s glow up.”

“Like you need any help,” Jisung muttered. “I’m pretty sure you could shave your head and still be gorgeous.”

He expected Minho to fire back some witty comment, but when Jisung looked up, he found the older boy looking at the ground with a blush high on his cheeks. Minho showed his care in actions rather than words- whereas Jisung was completely comfortable talking all day long, Minho would show affection by grabbing him an extra water bottle or offering a little packet of electrolyte gel. “ _ To stay hydrated _ !” he’d explained, tossing the blue raspberry packet over to Jisung, without even having to ask his favorite flavor.

“Marigold,” he said with a smirk. “Are you by any chance  _ shy _ ?”

“No!” Minho insisted, still looking very much flushed. “I just didn’t mark you as a confident gay is all.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Jisung shrugged. “But if you’re lucky, maybe you’ll get to learn.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Jisung spent an embarrassing amount of his work day flirting with his coworker and admiring the view. The flowers were gorgeous, of course, but there was something about Minho standing against the backdrop of deep blue hydrangeas that really took his breath away. In any other situation, he’d probably be complaining about being so sweaty from being out in the sun all day, but instead his head was full of the scent of flowers and thoughts of what kind of tanlines the older boy was hiding under his baggy striped shirt. Jisung was pretty sure that he was being subtle, but then one day Minho looked up from where he was tending a rose bush and Jisung was so caught off guard by the light in his eyes that he tripped over his watering can. 

“Tell me something about yourself,” Minho said one day as they were draining their water bottles. 

“I’m a double major,” Jisung offered. 

“Boo, boring, not school stuff,” Minho said, a twinkle in his eyes. “Tell me about  _ you _ .”

“Like what?”

Minho leaned forward, placing his now-empty thermos on the ground. “I’ve memorized all of my friends' birthdays,” he said. “Every single one, and I’m scary good at getting people exactly the right gift.”

Jisung laughed, but nodded. “Well, mine is September 14th, if you’re keeping track.”

“Who said we were friends?” Minho asked, flicking some water in his face. “Ever thought that maybe we’re just strictly coworkers, Buttercup?”

“Nah, I don't think so,” Jisung said, cocky. “You like me too much.”

He expected a witty response, but Minho was pretty good at surprising him.

“Maybe I do,” he said, gaze soft. “Your turn.”

“Oh, um,” Jisung thought to himself for a moment, then hesitantly offered, “I really like painting in my spare time.”

“Oh, what do you paint?”

“Watercolors, mostly,” Jisung said. “I’m not, like, very  _ good _ at it. I’m actually pretty bad if I’m being honest, they all just kind of look like pastel blobs. But it’s a lot of fun and it helps me relax after tough days.”

“Well, I’d love to see the blobs sometime,” Minho said. Jisung thought the tips of his ears might be a bit red, but Minho was already talking again.“Ok, break’s over. We’ve got a campus to beautify!”

There was a certain thrill in exploring a mostly empty campus - what should have been boring and gruelling work was something he looked forward to each day. They walked along the different sidewalks keeping an eye out for weeds as they swapped stories, pointing out which buildings they had classes in. He learned that Minho was majoring in dance, wanting to become an instructor for kids. Jisung shared his dreams of music production shyly, but Minho had been so excited about listening to his work that by the end of the day he had listened to almost all of his songs. 

They ate lunch together each afternoon, finding shade under the larger trees or sneaking into the garden behind the arts building on slower days. They shared sandwiches and sides, munching on chips and fruit as they laughed through the months. If Jisung spent a few too many seconds staring at the soft curve of his friend’s cupid’s bow, well, nobody needed to know. 

Going home to his empty apartment at the end of the day was honestly the hardest part- when Seungmin and Felix had decided to spend the summer back in their hometown, Jisung had joked about trying not to burn down the entire dorm. The truth, though, was that he was a little bit lonely at night. 

Maybe that was why, one night in mid-July, he found himself dialing a familiar number as the sun dipped below the horizon. 

_ “Hello?” _

“Hey,” he said. “Are you busy?”

_ “I am in the middle of deciding if I should order the same thing I always get from my favorite takeout place, or walk on the wild side and risk disappointment.” _

“What’s the wild side?”

_ “The same dish, but from a new place.” _

Jisung laughed, a little embarrassed at how easily the giggles spilled out of him. “How about you come over, and we both order something new. If it sucks, at least we’re suffering together”

_ “Be there in ten.” _

Minho had showed up to the building with a backpack full of Studio Ghibli DVD’s and a handle of passion fruit rum. They piled onto the loveseat in the common room, Jisung shoving some of the throw pillows Seungmin had insisted on buying into a pile on the floor. They ended up ordering Thai food and watching three movies in a row, tipsy off of fruity liquor and sharing their favorite characters with each other.

“I kind of like No-Face.” 

“ _ What _ ?” Jisung cried. “He’s literally so creepy! I was terrified of him when I was young.”

“I don’t know,” Minho shrugged. “I think he just wants to have friends.”

“You cannot seriously be defending No-Face!” Jisung countered. “He’s so scary, he has that giant mouth and just gobbles up anything in sight.”

“He’s got this horrible reputation, but deep down he just wants some love-”

“He has that reputation because he  _ eats _ people!”

“Maybe the reputation came  _ first _ ,” Minho said, voice suddenly small. “Maybe it was taken out of context, and then it got too big and maybe he just acts out because it’s what everyone expects of him, anyway.”

Jisung was about to jump into a heated debate about the morality of eating bathhouse employees, but he then saw the ghost of a frown on Minho’s face that made him think maybe they weren't talking about the movie anymore. 

“Hey,” he said, turning the volume down a bit. “Are you okay?”

Minho looked up sheepishly. “Sorry, did I bring the mood down?”

“No, I just wanted to check on you. You can tell me anything, you know. I won’t judge you.”

“A lot of people say they won’t judge you,” Minho sighed. “But usually they do.”

Jisung took his hand, stroking the back of his thumb in gentle circles. He hoped he didn’t realize how clammy his hands were, or that he was practically vibrating at being this close to him. He pushed down the gay part of his brain in favor of the empathetic part, leaning in to show support with whatever Minho was apparently struggling with.

“I’m not most people,” Jisung said. 

Minho smiled. “No, you’re not.”

He stayed quiet for a few more moments before nodding to himself, letting out a big sigh before locking eyes with Jisung. “You might want a drink for this,” he said.

“Did you kill someone?”

Minho smacked him, but he was smiling as he rolled his eyes. Jisung took a small swig of the rum, his throat burning as the alcohol hit his throat. When he set the bottle on the table, Minho was back to looking down at his lap. 

“Alcohol acquired,” he said with a small salute. “Now, what’s up?”

“I’m no good to be around, Jisung,” he said. “I didn’t tell you about it because it was so nice to hang out with someone who didn’t already have this preconceived notion of who I am, considering I- I have a bad reputation on campus. That’s why I was so excited when we met, when you didn’t know who I was.”

Jisung’s furrowed his eyebrows. “Why would you have a bad reputation?”

Minho sighed. “When I was a freshman, I really wanted to make friends,” he said. “My roommate was really big into the party scene, and I was desperate to fit in so I would go along with him. We partied, like, every night.”

“Having a shitty freshman year is practically a right of passage,” Jisung said, trying to reassure him. 

“Not like mine,” Minho said. “I was trying to find myself, and that led to too much partying and too much dating and I just got a reputation as someone who got around. And everyone was looking at me like I was this player, so I was like, fuck you guys. If you want me to be a bad boy, I’ll let you think I’m a bad boy. The funny part is I never actually brought anyone home, I just danced at the parties for the most part. But when the rumors came up, I didn’t correct them. By the end of my freshmen year I was pretty well known.

“Once I started dancing, though, I realized that I didn’t need everyone else's approval all the time,” he said. “It was enough just to do things that made me happy. So I stopped going out at much last year, but I guess once you have a reputation, it sticks.”

“You don’t seem like that to me, Minho,” Jisung said gently. “I know we haven’t known each other very long, but I  _ see _ you. You’re not some easy guy, and you’re not somebody that I’d ever be embarrassed to be friends with.”

“You say that,” Minho sighed. “But seriously, people would judge you for hanging out with me. I’ve been acting like someone that I’m just  _ not _ , because it’s what everyone expected of me. I don’t want people to look at you like you’re just the latest conquest.”

Jisung looked up at him, a little surprised at his honesty. Cautiously, he reached out his hand. Minho didn’t take it, but he didn’t pull away either. 

“Look,” Jisung said. “I like you because you’re  _ you _ . Frankly, I don’t give a shit about campus gossip, and I don’t think you should either.”

“I just got so fucking tired of trying to prove myself to other people,” Minho said. “To be honest, I kind of forgot how good it feels to just really be myself… until I met you.”

Jisung was buzzing. “Minho,” he said softly. “Fuck anyone who judges you without getting to know you. Just fuck them.”

“That’s what they think I do,” Minho laughed, but it was a hollow sound. “And I don’t want people to think that you’re just the next guy, you know? You-  _ this, _ it feels real.”

“I see who you are, Marigold, and I like you.”

Minho looked up at him, eyes bright with a new sort of shine. Jisung thought it might be hope. 

“I like you too, Buttercup. So much.”

Jisung’s heart was singing, but he didn’t want to push Minho. He’d been so open and vulnerable with him, and the last thing he wanted to do was make him uncomfortable, so instead of acting on his feelings, he offered the rum back to his friend and turned the volume back up. They fell asleep cuddled together on the couch, the soft sounds of  _ Howl’s Moving Castle  _ in the background. 

✩ ✩ ✩

Falling for Minho should feel surprising, he thought, since at the beginning of summer they were total strangers. He shouldn’t feel so comfortable with him, shouldn’t look forward to being out in the sun for hours at a time simply because he gets to be with Minho, shouldn’t be laughing until he cries at memes texted in the early morning hours. It should be a shock, really, but it’s not. 

One day, they’re pulling overgrown weeds in the community garden behind the horticulture building, the smell of mint and thyme in the air. He looked over to Minho to find that the older boy had stopped pulling plants from the ground, and was looking at him with so much warmth that Jisung almost fell over. One moment, he was picking weeds, and the next he was crossing the garden step by step in dark soil, a soft pair of lips on his own and a surge of fondness thrumming under his skin.

He should be surprised that everything feels so seamless, but he isn’t, because it feels like the easiest thing he’s ever done. His past relationships had all had an underlying sense of competitiveness- it was all about who would make the first move, who would say I love you first, who cared more- but with Minho nothing felt like a game. It was so natural that it was dizzying, like Jisung was  falling into bed at the end of a long day- comfortable, wanted, and ferociously safe. 

They didn’t really talk about what they  _ were _ , but Jisung was totally fine with that. He was content to just be Jisung and Minho, Minho and Jisung. If he got to eat nachos at their favorite bar and listen to him talk about his last vacation and kiss him at the end of the day, he was happy. 

Everything felt perfectly easy, that was, until the end of August crept closer. With the upcoming school year came the frightening reality that campus would come back to life, students filling the buildings and bringing their preconceived notions along with them. 

“What if we kept this on the downlow, just for a while,” Jisung suggested. “I know you’re nervous of what people will think, and I want you to be totally comfortable when we tell people about us.”

“I can’t ask you to keep this a secret,” Minho sighed. “That’s not fair to you.”

“You’re not asking, I’m offering,” Jisung said, nudging him. “You’re worth waiting for. Besides, I think it could be kind of  _ fun _ to sneak around a little bit.”

Minho looked up at him, taking in Jisung’s smug expression and over exaggerated wink, and finally cracked a smile. “Okay,” he said. “But only because I’m so into the idea of you sneaking out to meet me.”

The first couple weeks were tricky- Jisung was so used to having Minho over to his apartment that it took a few days for him to remember that they needed to meet away from the prying eyes of other students. There was a sort of rush in having a secret, especially when the secret was someone as gorgeous as Minho. 

In late September, Jisung snuck out to meet him at the field behind the football stadium. Minho pulled a folded blanket out of his bag, laying it out in the center of the field. The ground was still pretty hard from the cold front that had started rolling in, but when Jisung laid down and cuddled into Minho’s side, he thought it might be the most comfortable he’d been all night. 

“Fancy meeting you here,” Jisung said, slipping into his arms easily. “I missed you.”

“You saw me last night.”

“Doesn’t matter, still missed you.”

Minho smiled, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. He smelled like he always did, like clean linen and a whisper of lemon. Jisung pulled him in even closer.

“Missed you, too,” he murmured. “I brought snacks if you’re hungry.”

Jisung shook his head, resting his head on Minho’s chest. When he pressed a small kiss to his left side, right above his heart, he thought he felt his pulse pick up. Even though it had been months since they first kissed, Jisung was pleased to find that he still had an instant effect on the older boy.

“How was your day?” Minho asked, fluttering his eyes shut. “Was all the studying worth it?”

“It was,” Jisung said. “I got a 97 on the first exam, thank God. Now I’m a lot less stressed about the midterm.”

“Well, you’re a genius, so I knew you’d be fine,” Minho said with a smile. 

Jiusng was glad his eyes were shut, otherwise he’d surely be making fun of his blush by now. He leaned up to reposition himself, hovering over Minho with a sly grin. When their lips touched, Minho sighed into the kiss and threaded his fingers into the baby hairs at the name of Jisung’s neck, pulling him even closer. The older boy didn’t give him much time to savor the kiss, though, suddenly rolling them over so that their positions were switched. 

Jisung laughed as Minho kissed down his chest, sneaking his hand up the side of his shirt. He kissed his way back up, reaching the nape of his neck with shaky breaths and mystery shapes drawn onto Jisung’s hips with burning fingers. 

“You’re fighting dirty,” he said with a laugh, Minho’s lips still on his throat. 

The older boy didn’t acknowledge him, just continued to kiss up the side of his neck until he reached just behind his ear. He kissed him slowly, so different from the fiery heat Jisung was used to from Minho. He pressed his lips against his skin almost reverently, whispering honeyed words against his throat. Just when Jisung thought he might have finally gone soft on him, Minho bit down playfully on the curve of his neck. 

“Is it really fighting dirty if I know you like it?”

Jisung laughed, but it was muffled as Minho put his lips on his mouth, swallowing the sound with a smile. Minho reached over to brush his bangs back against his forehead with a gentleness that Jisung secretly adored. He always touched him like he was made of glass, like too sudden of a movement might break the fragile moment between them. As much as Jisung enjoyed the privacy that came with a secret relationship, he couldn’t help but admit that there was a small part of him that felt a little sore about keeping things in the dark. 

Before he could voice his concerns, though, Minho was once again looking at him like he was the only person in the world and Jisung found himself leaning in, worries lost on the tip of his tongue.

✩ ✩ ✩

It took about a month of nightly escapades before his friends started to get suspicious. Jisung was sitting in one of the back rows of a large lecture hall, Hyunjin on his right and Changbin on his left. As the professor droned on about personal finance, Jisung turned his head to follow the PowerPoint and Hyunjin suddenly gasped. 

“Oh my god!” he whisper-yelled. 

“Shut up, Jin, you’re going to get us in trouble,” Changbin laughed. “What’s up?”

At first he thought he was going to be strangled to death, Hyunjin’s hands reaching directly for his neck, but then his friend simply started pulling on the collar of his shirt. Before he could fully comprehend what was happening, Hyunjin had undone the top button of his shirt and was gesturing wildly to his throat. 

“You have a  _ hickey _ !” Hyunjin giggled. “Oh my god, our little Jisungie!”

Changbin was fully focused now, swatting Hyunjin’s hand out of the way so he could get a look himself. Jisung tried to button his shirt back up, but it was in vain because his friends each took hold of one of his arms, holding them down to his seat as they giggled about the bright bruise on his neck.

“Who is it?” Changbin asked. “You haven’t been coming downtown with us or anything. did you meet someone?”

“Is it that cute guy from the gym?” Hyunjin asked. “Oh my god, it’s  _ totally _ the guy from the gym, he’s been staring at Jisung for weeks now.”

“It’s not the gym guy, Hyunjin,” he groaned. “And he only stares at me because I almost threw up after a cycling class that one time. He’s worried he’s going to have to get the mop out.”

His protests fell on deaf ears, his friends already rambling wildly about who Jisung might be seeing. They spent the rest of the lecture speculating and writing down names of potential suspects. Hyunjin joked about making a PowerPoint presentation to get to the bottom of it, but he wasn’t sure how much he was actually joking. 

When he told Minho about it that night, he had laughed for three straight minutes. Jisung normally would have been embarrassed, but there was something about the way Minho threw his head back when he laughed that made him more fond than anything. He spent the rest of the week with his collar undone. 

✩ ✩ ✩

One afternoon, Hyunjin had come to lunch after his modern dance class, whispering wildly across the table.

“I couldn’t believe it,” he said. “He’s as gorgeous as everyone says, but I definitely get the heartthrob vibe. I don’t know how half the class could focus on what he was saying, they were all just oogling him.”

“Who?” Jeongin asked. 

Jisung was stabbing at a completely unfulfilling salad (“ _ You need to eat a vegetable, Jisung, or I will force feed you _ .” Seungmin had threatened the week before), and he only looked up when a familiar name caught his attention. 

“Lee Minho,” Felix explained. “The campus bad boy is our new TA.”

“He’s hardly a bad boy,” Jisung muttered, pushing his bowl of greens away. 

The whole table quieted, looking at him with wide eyes. He hadn’t even realized it slipped out until he saw Seungmin’s eyebrows raised at him, waiting for an explanation. 

“Wait, you  _ know _ Minho?” Hyunjin asked, eyes wide. “Oh my god, tell us everything.”

“It’s nothing, really,” Jisung cleared his throat. “We met over the summer, we both worked for grounds.”

“He probably wanted to get with you!” Felix yelled. “Oh my God, that’s crazy. I can’t believe you never told us!”

“It’s not like that,” Jisung said, gripping the back of his neck. “He’s really nice. He’s a good person.”

“Just be careful, Sung,” Hyunjin said. “You should hear the rumors that run in the dance circle. Some of them even make  _ me _ blush, I don’t know if you could handle him.”

Jisung found his friends’ comments funny- if they knew who he was sneaking out to see at night, he thought their heads might explode. He felt a little guilty skipping out on movie night sometimes, but when he was sitting on a bench outside the dance building with Minho’s fingers tangled in his hair, he couldn’t find it in him to care very much. 

Underneath it all, though, all the rumors and speculations about who Minho was were downright laughable. Everyone was so wrong about him- he wasn’t some heartless player. Jisung could only imagine how shocked everyone would be if they knew the real him- the boy who adored his cats and knew how to make a handmade loaf of sourdough, the recipe passed down from his grandmother. Jisung can’t believe he’s the one that gets to see it. 

He knew his friends were suspicious of where he slipped off to some evenings when they were still up, doubting that they bought his story of late night strolls around campus, but he was pretty sure they had no idea that he was passing the hours sharing stories and stealing kisses. 

Jisung traced the treelines with Minho at his side, interlacing their fingers as they walked along the edge of the woods by their campus. They usually met up late at night, or sometimes during the day if they were far enough off campus. 

The high of doing something in secret- without his friends knowing, without the pressure of everyone's eyes on them, led Jisung to a new kind of freedom. When he got late night pizza with minho at a diner the next town over, he buzzed with the high of being completely anonymous to the world. He and Minho would point out the other patrons, making up stories about who they were and what they did that day. 

When they walked along the downtown strip, Jisung would thread their fingers together in the dark of night and laugh about how none of these strangers knew their names. They could be beggars or kings, total secrets to the world as they fall deeper into each other every evening. 

As November approached, Jisung found himself looking forward to the evening more than his days. He would get the text, sneaking past his roommates or out of the library where he had been working on lyrics with Chan and Changbin. Whether the walk was just down the stairs or across the entire campus, he couldn’t help the way his heart stuttered when he saw Minho standing at the treeline. 

“They don't need to know,” he would whisper against his lips. “Nobody needs to know.”

One night he pressed Minho into the brick walls behind his dorm building, hidden from any prying eyes by the large pine tree that they had tended to during their time working grounds. Jisung wondered if they’d ever get tired of this- of being drunk on a secret, of growing dizzy on the scent of Minho cologne and the smell of soju on his breath. In the moment it felt right, but sometimes when he would walk around campus in the morning, catching Minho’s eye from across the lawn, his chest would ache that he couldn’t just walk over and press a kiss to his mouth. 

✩ ✩ ✩

“Where do you go at night?”

Jisung looked up from his laptop, a little taken aback. He, Seungmin, Felix, and Hyunjin (“ _ The millenium boys _ !” Felix had declared) had managed to snag one of the tables by the window in the library cafe earlier in the morning, taking turns guarding the spot as they rotated in and out throughout the day to study in between classes. It was just Seungmin and Jisung, now, and his roommate was looking at him with curiosity. 

“Um, I just went for a walk?”

“Are you asking me, or telling me?”

Jiusng swallowed. “Telling. Yeah, I went for a walk.”

Seungmin tilted his head, staring at Jisung thoughtfully. “Are you seeing somebody, Sungie?”

Jisung choked on his coffee, sputtering far too loud for a library. Seungmin smacked his back until his breathing steadied, and his roommate laughed. 

“I’ll take that as a yes!”

Jisung blinked stupidly. Months of sneaking around, and this was how he got found out? By tripping over his words after studying for too long?

“Who is he? It’s been months now, you haven’t told us anything.”

Oh, right, he hadn’t  _ fully _ spilled the beans yet. He tried to come up with something, anything to distract his eagle-eyed friend away from the truth, but Seungmin seemed to take pity on him that day.

“Do you not want him to meet us?” he asked. 

“No, it’s not that,” Jisung said. “It’s just… things are good, you know? I don’t want to ruin it by telling everyone about us, I guess.”

Seungmin hummed, thinking over his words. 

“I guess that makes sense,” he finally said. “But you know we’ll love anyone that makes you happy, right?”

Jisung couldn’t help but smile. Maybe he had gotten caught up in the rush of a secret relationship, but at the end of the day he wanted Minho to really be a part of his life. Not just at night, not just when they were alone, but all the time. He knew he needed to merge these two parts of his life soon, but he wasn’t quite sure how.

“Why don’t you invite him to Chan’s Halloween party?” Seungmin offered. “Everyone will be so drunk, we might not even remember who it is.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Jisung laughed. “But I’ll ask him, seriously. I want you guys to meet him, just… be patient.”

“You don’t have to tell us everything,” Seungmin said as Felix approached, a tray of coffees in his hands. “But we’d like to get to know whoever you’ve been spending so much time with.”

“You’ve been happier lately,” Felix said with a small smile, placing an americano in front of each of his roommates. “Sorry to eavesdrop.”

Jisung elbowed him playfully. “When have you ever been sorry about eavesdropping?” 

“You’re right, I’m not sorry,” Felix laughed. “But seriously, I was talking to Changbin about it earlier- it’s really nice to see you like this, Sung.”

Jisung blushed, but nodded. Maybe it was time to step into the light. 

He was feeling pretty confident about it, until he asked Minho that night at the edge of the campus. The trees cast shadows across his face, his jawline sharp but his cheeks hidden. His eyes were currently wide in shock. 

“You want to go to a party together?”

Jisung winced, Minho’s anxiety bleeding into his voice. He hadn’t expected him to immediately agree with enthusiasm, but he hadn’t anticipated so much panic in his eyes. 

“Well, we’ll be in costumes,” Jisung said quickly. “So if you don’t want people to realize it’s you, you could wear a costume with a mask.”

“What, like a luchador?”

“ _ Not _ the point I was trying to make,” Jisung laughed. “You could be Zorro, or a sexy cat, anything really. You look nice in anything you wear.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Han Jisung,” Minho said, pulling him into his arms to press a kiss on his cheek. 

“And yet it’s gotten me this far!” Jiusng countered, turning so the next kiss landed on his lips. He kissed Minho for a few more moments, just enjoying being with him, before he pulled away. “But I really do want to spend time with you, in public. I think we’re ready.”

Minho took a deep breath, then nodded. 

“On one condition,” he said. “I pick the costumes.”

✩ ✩ ✩

The night before Halloween, Jisung stepped out of his apartment with his roommates at his side. Hyunjin and Jeongin met them in front of the building to pile into an overpriced Uber XL, and Jisung was buzzing with excitement. Felix had dressed as a chef, an oversized white had wobbling haphazardly with each of his steps. Seungmin went a more traditional route, wearing vampire teeth and two small red dots on his neck, drawn in some old lipstick Felix found in the bottom of one of his backpacks. 

Jisung looked down to his own outfit, a long, bright red tunic flowing over some light-wash jeans. He was wearing a thin gold crown on top of freshly dyed blonde hair, and he had added a light dusting of glittery blush. 

“What are you supposed to be, again?” Hyunjin asked. He’d gone for a classic costume, devil horns and tail turning his usual clubbing outfit of a red silk top and too-tight leather pants into a  _ look _ . 

“You’ll see,” he said cryptically, gesturing to himself with grandeur. “It would be a waste to spoil the surprise.”

His friends had been bugging him all day about his costume, but he wanted to wait and see if they could figure it out themselves. Hyunjin sighed, accepting that he wouldn't be getting a clear response from his friend, and they all headed toward the car that had finally pulled in front of their building. It would be easy to tell what he was, Jisung figured, once he was next to Minho. 

Jeongin fiddled with the collar of his shirt - he’d thrown together an outfit that was the spitting image of his favorite video game character- and his costume sure to be a crowd-pleaser. He rarely drank, preferring to remember all of the wild things his friends said after too many beers, but he had been persuaded to join the group pregaming. He’d only agreed to a single shot, sputtering and complaining about the cheap taste of Fireball. Jisung could still smell the cinnamon on his breath when he laughed at Seungmin pouted after dropping his phone. 

The Uber was a little cramped, but the drive had added a few Halloween stickers to the windows to celebrate. As he picked at a small skeleton, Jisung thought he spied one of those vomit bags that they kept on hand in the ER. He’d only seen them twice- once when he broke his arm as a kid, and last year when his friend drank too much after a party and fell off a banister. He’d gotten twelve stitches, and Jisung had nabbed one of the bags for the drive home in case the pain meds wore off.

When he walked into the house, he immediately looked over to the dance floor, where he found Changbin and Chan engaged in a questionable amount of moshing for a house party. They were both wearing jerseys for some team Jisung wasn’t quite familiar with, insisting that all the energy put into finding a costume should instead be put into a banger playlist, but when they saw that their friends had arrived they waved them over to the kitchen. 

It was only after another round of shots that they released them into the wild of the party, each going toward different parts of the house. 

Minho was standing in the corner just as he said he’d be. He was in all black, a long cape and dark mask pulling his simple outfit together. After watching The Princess Bride one too many times, Minho had shyly suggested that he could dress up as Wesley for the party- Jisung tried to pretend he wasn’t stupidly excited about the idea, but Minho must have seen the way his face lit up at the thought because here he was, in all his masked glory. 

“Hey,” he said, walking over to him. “How’s it going?”

“I feel a little out of place,” Minho admitted. “But a couple of people have complimented me on the costume, so that’s nice. I told them it might take a bit for my Princess Buttercup to arrive.”

Jisung flushed, but he was smiling when Minho pulled him closer. “Are you sure this is okay?”

“Yeah,” Minho said. “This is okay.”

Jisung was prepared to ditch the whole party, if Minho was uncomfortable. Over time and too many games of cards, Jisung knew that when Minho lied he tilted his head to the left just a bit; and when he’d insisted on staying, that he was having fun, his head stayed perfectly still.

They indulged in a few drinks, but when they finished their second cup of jungle juice, Jisung took Minho’s hand and started walking out of the kitchen. He didn’t even have to think about it- just saw the flash of worry in Minho’s eyes and then started dragging him toward the main room, where the lights were dimmer and the bassline loud enough to echo in your ribcage. They secured a spot near the wall, the flashing LED light strips overhead tinting everything a soft pink. Jisung stretched his hand out in invitation. 

“May I have this dance?” he asked.

“As you wish,” Minho said, winking behind the fabric over his eyes. 

The party was loud, but not insufferable quite yet. There was a small group of people surrounding a heated game of beer pong and two girls were playfully fighting over whether candy corn was a delicacy or an abomination. 

They spent the first hour dancing to top 40 remixes and the occasional slow song. Jisung knew Minho felt most at home when he was dancing (“ _ You bring me over here to calm me down _ ?” Minho had asked with bright eyes. “ _ Maybe _ ,” Jisung had admitted. “ _ I figured you’d rather be on home turf _ !”), and even in the party setting he seemed to be growing more comfortable by the moment. 

When a softer song came on, the dancers all slowly shifted into couples. Jisung looped his hands behind Minho’s neck, grinning when he noticed that he was looking at him with that smile that nobody else ever got to see. The older boy traced his jaw with soft fingertips, pausing as he reached up to his cheekbone. 

“You look really pretty tonight,” he said. “I’m glad we came.”

“Really?” Jisung asked, breaking into a smile. “I was so worried you’d be miserable.”

“No, it’s a lot of fun,” Minho said. “You were right.”

“ _ What _ ?” Jisung pretended to gasp, looking around the room wildly. “Oh my god, did you just admit I was  _ right _ ? I’m sorry, did I hear that correctly?”

Minho barked out a laugh but pulled him in closer, quickly leaning down to give him a small peck. Emboldened by the thrill of kissing someone he was so crazy about (and maybe a little bit by the alcohol), Jisung deepened the kiss. He could feel the older boy smile into the kiss, and Jisung was a little bit in love. 

As he threaded his hands into Minho’s hair, adjusting so he had a better hold on the back of his neck, he felt a knot of fabric come loose. By the time he even realized what had happened, Minho’s mask was falling off his face. 

“Oh, no fucking  _ way _ !”

Jisung spun around to find his friends, staring at them with wide eyes and mouth agape. Jeongin was clutching his heart, pretending to clutch his pearls (“ _ It’s something my aunt used to say whenever she saw something shocking _ ,” he’d explained one day. “ _ I aspire to be her level of dramatic. _ ”). Hyunjin was hollering in excitement, leaning a little too far to the right, and his roommates were already walking toward him. 

Jisung turned to Minho to apologize, but he was already gone, running out the door to the backyard. He took a step to follow, but by then Felix had a firm grip on his hand. 

“ _ That’s _ who you’ve been seeing?” he yelled. “Lee Minho?”

Jisung opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Was he supposed to lie? Was he supposed to tell him that it wasn’t supposed to be a secret for so long? Was he supposed to admit that it wasn’t just a fling, that he was a little bit in love with him? 

Before he could decide the best course of action, Jeongin pinched him in the side.

“ _ Ah _ ! What was that for?”

“What are you doing?” Jeongin yelled, smacking him on the shoulder. “Go after him!” 

“Seriously?” Jisung asked. “I thought you guys said he was bad news.”

“Ji,” Seungmin said. “I know we joke around a lot, but we aren’t going to judge him on bullshit gossip. If you think he’s a good guy, we trust you.”

“Besides, he looks at you like you hung the moon,” Felix said, eyes bright and words slurred. “He acts so tough at the studio, I didn’t know he could look at anyone like that! His eyes were all googley. That’s not something you can just fake.”

“What if he’s mad?’ Jisung worried, shifting back and forth. “I don’t think he wants to talk to me-”

Seungmin responded by simply throwing one of his vampire fangs, the tiny plastic tooth smacking him right in the forehead. 

_ “Ow!” _

“Stop being a big baby,” he said. “You’re obviously nuts about him, so go get him.”

Jisung left out the back door, the sounds of the party growing muffled as he shut the food behind him. Minho stood on the edge of the deck, twiddling his thumbs nervously. He must have heard Jisung walking toward him, because when he was a few feet away he spun around to face him.

Jisung had prepared for a lot of different reactions- Minho could be sad, because his friends were clearly shocked that it was him that their friend was sneaking out to see. He could be embarrassed, because now everyone knew that they were together and it was something he had desperately wanted to keep quiet. He could be angry, because he dragged him to this party. 

What he had not anticipated, however, was the reality. Minho’s eyes were bright, a slight blush on his cheeks and smile wide. He looked, well-

“You’re happy?” Jisung asked, awe seeping into his voice. 

Minho, bless him, actually laughed. “Of course I’m happy, Buttercup. Come here.”

He reached out his hand, and Jisung took it wordlessly. 

“I was shocked, at first,” Minho admitted. “And then I was kind of embarrassed.”

“You should be, you’re shit at tying knots.”

“Or are you strangely good at untying them?” Minho glared at him, but there was so much fondness in his eyes that any attempt to look stern was comical. “I didn’t think you’d reveal my secret identity at the most public place possible.”

“I know,” Jisung said. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to-”

“No, Ji, you’ve got it wrong,” Minho interrupted, giving Jisung’s hand a squeeze. “I wasn’t expecting it to happen, but I’m not embarrassed of being you. I was embarrassed because, with all your friends looking at us… I just kind of realized that this was never something I needed to be worried about.”

Jiusng just blinked at him. “What?”

“I’m kind of crazy about you,” Minho admitted shyly. “And I was worried that when people found out about us, you’d be ashamed of me, or you wouldn’t want to be with me anymore. But when your friends started whistling, the first thing you did wasn’t try to explain things to them- instead, you were worried about  _ me _ .”

“Of course I was worried about you,” Jisung said gently. “You’re kind of the most important person in my life, you know. I don’t know what I’d do if I hurt you.”

Minho looked overwhelmed, but in the kind of way that makes you feel like you’re floating a little bit. He took Jisung’s shoulders in his hands, like he was worried if he didn’t hold on, he might disappear in front of him. 

“I never should have doubted this,” Minho said. “Jisung, can I take you out on a date?”

“In the daylight?” Jisung laughed. “I was worried we’d be stuck running around at night forever.”

“I don’t want to keep this in the dark anymore,” he said. “I want everyone to know you’re mine.”

“Oh, so I’m  _ yours _ , am I?” 

Minho’s ears reddened, and he stuttered, “Um, I mean, if you want to-

“I’m just kidding,” he said, silencing him with a kiss. “Of course I’m yours. Have been for a while now.”

Minho just pulled him in to press his mouth against his own, pressing promises against his lips until every last bit of fear had left him. Jisung wasn’t sure what love felt like- he was still young, and he’d only dated a few people- but if it felt anything like this, like flying and falling all at the same time, he wasn’t worried anymore. He’d probably follow Minho anywhere. 

“ _ Yes! _ ”

There was suddenly a muffled cheering coming from the house, and when Jisung turned, he saw his friends crowded by the window. Hyunjin still had his hand on the windowsill where he had propped it open and although they dispersed immediately, it was clear they had been spying. 

“Do you even have the capacity to feel shame?” Jisung yelled. 

When a far-away “ _ Nope! _ ” reached their ears, Minho simply laughed at the affronted look on Jisung’s face and pulled him in for another kiss. 

After months of sneaking around, Jisung had gotten used to rushed kisses and having to steal kisses in the dark of night. Now, standing under the porch light in the backyard of a rowdy party, Jisung could see things clear as day. Happiness bloomed in his chest as Minho leaned down and kissed him soft and slow, like they had all the time in the world. Maybe they did.

✩ ✩ ✩

_ Ping! _

Jisung was sitting with his roommates, watching some latest Parks and Rec rerun as Felix complained about his project partner. When his phone lit up, Seungmin and Felix shared a knowing look but just waved at their friend as he put his shoes on. 

“Tell Minho we said hi,” Seungmin said. “And that he still owes me ten dollars from barbecue last week.”

“Good luck with that!” Jisung laughed. 

He took the steps two at a time, excited to get outside. With summer fast approaching, the air was more humid than he preferred, but the feeling of a late spring breeze was something he wouldn’t give up for anything. 

By the time he reached the edge of campus, Minho was already sitting at one of the benches and waving at him. They didn’t have to sneak around anymore- if anything, his friends had quickly become more obsessed with him than they were with Jisung. 

“Hey, Buttercup,” Minho said, catching him in a kiss. 

Today they were meeting up in the late afternoon- although there was still a small thrill in kissing him under the cover of branches, tracing the treelines. Jisung couldn’t help but smile as he laced their fingers together as the sun cast shadows across his boyfriend’s face. 

“Fancy meeting you here.”


End file.
